Mike Bland

Twenty-seven and a half years after earning a theatre degree, I’ve just today finished reading King Lear for the first time. After the first few scenes, my past training rendered the archaic language easier to read than I’d expected. And despite the dusty language and obsolete formalities, the actions of the characters surfaced kernels of truth vividly recognizable in our own reflections. Modern visual effects that attempt to compensate for a barren story can’t compete with images of vice and virtue so grounded in timeless human nature.

(This obviously is not a technical post, so move along if this isn’t your jam. If it is your jam, even though I’m thinking of quitting LinkedIn, for now, you can check out the LinkedIn announcement corresponding to this post.)

If it seems like I’m trying too hard with the above description, it’s because I am. I’m trying to reconnect with what now seems like the fleeting glimpse of humanity and the hunger for beauty I possessed in my younger days. Amateuristic riffing on clichéd imagery is part of getting that process started.¹

This quest has been on my mind for a long while. Part of the motivation comes with my growing disillusionment with the tech industry and technology’s role in society. However, it’s more about rediscovering what brought joy and meaning to my life before immersing myself in a technology career, than a reaction against technology. Perhaps the more I’m able to rekindle this fire I once had, the greater chance I’ll have of reconciling my concerns about technology and humanity.

This holiday season I’ve taken more concrete steps in this direction than I have in years, primarily because I accidentally started reading physical books again:

• Brothers by Alex Van Halen (finished!)
• Cinema Speculation by Quentin Tarantino (finished!)
• Miles: The Autobiography by Miles Davis with Quincy Troupe (just starting…)
• The Creative Act: A Way of Being by Rick Rubin (about a quarter through)
• And, of course, King Lear by William Shakespeare (finished!)

As you can imagine, this material has inspired all manner of thoughts, which I hope I’ll have the patience to write about here eventually. And I didn’t turn to physical books to reject technology; it was an accidental consequence of a nostalgic tour of my local Barnes & Noble. That said, reading static paper pages was a welcome distraction from the endless temptation to split my attention between every bouncy thing on the internet.

I’m sharing this little bit now to start creating some space for myself to explore these themes, one piece at a time. I’m hoping that helps motivate me to actually write more, instead of feeling stuck trying to weave webs of thoughts into longer form treatises. Even if no one reads or responds to any of it, it’s fulfilling to put something out there, to create possibilities for connection, at least.

I want these thoughts and potential interactions to emerge and to flow from inspired creative impulses, not artificial force. Not everything need be planned, or goal oriented, or transactional in any way (which is why I’ll never collect any metrics on this blog). I’m more interested in creating the conditions for delightful surprises, however small, external or internal, in whatever form they take.

We’ll see if this works, and what comes of it. Not yet knowing, or even harboring any expectations, is actually kind of fun!

Footnotes